


Paradise Lost

by Antarctic_Echoes



Series: Luciferian Fics (One shots) [29]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pain, Post S2x14, Sad Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/pseuds/Antarctic_Echoes
Summary: Lucifer reflects on Chloe and the things he's done as he sits on the beach.  Takes place right after S2x14 ends.Sorry, this is not my usual fluffy fluff.  It's angsty and a little sad, just to warn you.Short one-shot.





	Paradise Lost

**Author's Note:**

> A super-big thank you to moonatoms and titC for beta-ing and letting me know if this was suitable for publication. You both rock!
> 
> Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

 

 

Lucifer Morningstar sat on the cool sands of the Malibu beach and stared out at the dark sea.  There was no moon, but ambient light from the surrounding city gave the water a faint glow.  The main body remained black, though -- much like the charred remains of his heart.  He could barely see the waves crashing onto the surf, but he could hear it -- thunderous as it pounded the beach.  If he walked out into the icy cold water, would those black waves push him down into the sea’s inky depths?  After all, he felt as if he was drowning already....

After seeing Candy off, he had come here, to the beach where he had cut off his wings -- the very same spot where Chloe had kissed him.  As he recalled the memory of her soft lips against his, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I don't need you anymore.”

The words echoed in Lucifer’s head, over and over.  Although he had known that returning would be painful, there had never been any other choice for him.  The need to give Chloe her freedom of choice back outweighed all other desires.  He hadn’t wanted to return -- it was far easier to run and never look back -- but he couldn’t stay away.  And besides, he didn’t want to.

While he had been plotting and planning to get his revenge on Mum and Dad during the two weeks he had been gone, the thought of the detective never left him.  She had been there the entire time, watching what he had been doing, visiting him at night like a spectre.  During his stay in Las Vegas, he had often thought he had seen her in the casinos as he gambled.  A random word spoken in a woman’s voice; the glimpse of a head of golden hair, pulled back in a tight pony tail; a stylish, camel-colored coat....  She was everywhere.  Once, he even followed some poor human, chasing after her like a fool, only to find out she was someone else.

His mind had constantly thought of her.  Was she all right?  Had she recovered completely from the poison?  Had she been released from the hospital?  Was she back at the precinct, working on cases without him?

Did she hate him, for leaving her?

The questions plagued him, every second of every day, but he couldn’t seem to turn off his mind.  Whatever he did, wherever he went, she followed and haunted him.

And so he had concocted his plan and returned with Candy, flaunting her on his arm for all the world to see.  Oh, he had told himself that he needed her to find out what Mum’s plans were, but that wasn’t true.  Candy had been there purely for the detective’s sake.  

Dread filled him when Chloe had finally confronted him about his absence -- and it had been worse than he’d anticipated.  The shock on her face, her aqua eyes wide and full of hurt, had been harder to bear than anything he had imagined.  His heart cringed at the sight of her pain.  And then she said  _ those words. _

"I don't need you anymore.”

They hung in the air between them like a poisonous miasma, and unbidden tears had welled in his eyes as the small flame of hope he carried within him snuffed out.  Her anger destroyed his tiny, heartfelt longing that she would be able to forgive him, despite what he had done and had yet to do.  Forgiveness wasn’t something he deserved, but he had craved it nonetheless, foolishly letting it sustain him through his two weeks of self-imposed exile.  He’d known he  _ had _ to kill whatever she felt for him, so wishing that she might still feel something for him had been a pipe dream.  But still... he had hoped... and even prayed, deep inside.

He struggled to get things back to normal -- to the way they were before.  Not that they would ever be -- at least, not for him.  He loved her, with everything he had, everything he was.  She might hate him, but he had had no other choice.  He  _ had _ to do what he had done.  Letting her go was the only way to ensure that she retained her free will.  She had to be free to choose her own life, her own path -- and she had to choose someone who wasn’t him.  

Returning to work with her would be nothing but pain.  He knew it, and thought he had been prepared for it, but it had hurt far worse than he could have ever imagined.  Her contempt was so hard to bear -- it weighed upon him much like the Earth on Atlas’s shoulders, threatening to flatten him into the very ground he stood upon.  But he held on.  He couldn’t leave her alone -- couldn’t even imagine the thought of being without her.  If he could just be in the same room as her, breathe the same air, he could survive... or so he thought.

The loss of her trust had been devastating -- when he had asked her if she had ever known him to lie, she’d responded, “I don’t know.”  Those words gutted him, twisted the knife he had stabbed into his own soul.  Not only had he hurt her, he had lost her trust.  It had been the one thing he hadn’t expected.  He hadn’t even known what to say. 

But still, he pushed on.  He had to.  He had to make this right -- for her.  Even though she hated him, he could deal with this.  He could handle it.  He could hide his pain and pretend that he felt nothing.  That they were just friends.  That he didn’t... love her.  He was Lucifer Morningstar, after all -- the angel who had once lit the stars.  He could do anything -- or so he told himself.

And yet, when his life was on the line and he had told Chloe to just shoot him, he’d hoped that she would.  Shoot him, kill him, put him out of his misery... and hers.  If she killed him, she would be free to live her own life.  To be whatever she wanted.  Love whomever she wanted.  And he would be free, too... free to return to Hell, to live out the rest of eternity in pain and sadness, with only the memory of her soft kisses to sustain him through the long years ahead.

She hadn’t shot him, of course, and the feathery, soft touch of her fingers on his neck as he coughed and tried to catch his breath had been a taste of Heaven.  Fleeting -- but for a few seconds, his heart had flown with joy.

And then it was gone, obliterated by her words, as she told him callously that she had been aiming for him.

He deserved it.  Deserved all of her contempt and mistrust.  He deserved every single drop of hatred she spewed at him.  Thinking that he could actually have happiness had been a fool’s game.  Who was he, to dare to reach for the unattainable?  He was a monster -- the Devil.  He brought nothing but pain and sorrow.  If Chloe ever found out who he really was, she would never accept him, anyway.  He had merely accelerated what he had known was coming.  The actions he had taken were for the best -- not only for her, but for everyone.

So why didn’t they feel that way?

Sighing, he stared up at the dark sky.   He wished he could see more stars, but the strong city lights kept them hidden. A sudden longing rose up within him, so strong that he reeled from it.  Ah, to light up the heavens as he once had so long ago -- to live the young, innocent life he once had, before Chloe, before the Fall, before he knew what pain was, before  _ everything _ \-- it was like a siren song.  But those days were long gone.  If he could go back, though... if he could, he’d light every star in the sky and name each one after her.

_ Chloe, Chloe, Chloe.... _

He repeated her name like a litany in his head as he let out a sigh.  After he finally got back into her good graces, she agreed to let him continue working with her, which had brought a flood of relief within him.  He knew he was asking for a lifetime of pain and suffering, but he could handle it.  As long as he was close to her, he would be all right.

Still, a part of him wished for things to be different.  How he longed to go back in time, before he had found out about Dad’s actions.  Then he could restart his life from that point on, living happily with the one person who meant everything to him, whom he had died for -- twice.  Oh, to see her smile at him with love in her eyes and feel her lips against his -- it would mean the world to him if he could have that, just one more time.  Of course, the Devil didn’t deserve such kindness, or happiness, or anything, really -- but he could dream, couldn’t he?  Just... for a little while?

Wrapping his arms around his legs and leaning his forehead against his knees, Lucifer closed his eyes and lost himself in dreams, until the dark sky lightened with yellow and pink hues.  When he saw that dawn was breaking, the fallen angel felt what was left of his heart fall to his knees.  Dream time was over.  Reality called.  

Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet, then dusted himself off.  A lone, solitary figure on the beach, he walked across the sands to the Corvette -- toward work, toward Chloe... toward pain.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is so dark, but this is where we left poor Lucifer at the end of S2x14. I'm sure that the writers will get him and Chloe back to where they need to be, though. It might take time, but I'm sure they'll get us there. <3 Thank you for reading!


End file.
